


reminiscence

by neravakiin



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesiac Courier (Fallout), Depression, Family Member Death, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Religious Cults, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:08:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neravakiin/pseuds/neravakiin
Summary: Nox, the Courier Six, had all of his memories dug out when he was in the Big Empty. The scientists there decided to collect all of them and make them watchable just to see if it could be done. So naturally, the Courier stole all of his memories back and booked it back home, and ended up holding onto them after the whole ordeal. Now he finally has time to learn who he used to be.





	reminiscence

**Author's Note:**

> this might have a lot of headcanon stuff in it because I haven't played old world blues for myself yet, but sticking strictly to canon has never been something I'm good at. It's also 1 in the fuckin morning. yeehaw (edit: it has been about a month and ive decided to update the fic to fit with the canon a little more. a few lines in this are taken from the preacher by jamie n commons because they fit real well. yee yee)

   Nox sat down on the old dusty floor of an abandoned schoolhouse, sneezing as he kicked up dust around him. He took out a small plastic videotape and inserted it into an old but recently repaired projector that sat on the ground beside him.

   During his time in the Big MT, he had come to find out that he had ended up retaining most, if not all, of his memories. Though he suffered from trauma-induced amnesia, the disconnect between the parahippocampus and the default mode network was no issue to work around. The memories were extracted and eventually translated into a collection of watchable memories. This happened only due to the pure curiosity of the team of doctors. 

   It was in first-person, and it began as early as he could've remembered. He was a toddler, adored and continuously doted upon by his parents and older sister. His mother smiled at him and picked him up into her arms. The woman was short and round, but strong-willed and kind. She had Nox's eyes, a warm amber that could either pierce your soul or melt your heart. Present Nox simply stared at the screen, speechless. "Look at my little one! God truly blessed me with such a wonderful little boy," she said, her voice filled with affection and warmth. She kissed her child on the head and turned to face her husband, who had just walked into their little home.

   "Well look who's here, Nicodemus! Daddy's home early," she said, looking down at her child and then back up at his father. Nox's dad had just walked in. He was a tall, sturdy man with a resoundingly deep voice. He shared Nox's dark brown hair, but Nox's eyes starkly contrasted his father's stormy grey eyes. Present Nox stared at him with a convoluted mix of loathing and regret. 

   "How's my little man doing? I hope he isn't causing his mother any trouble over here," he said, bending down a little to ruffle his son's hair. Little Nox laughed, and the screen faded out.

   The next memory to play was the beginning of the deterioration of his family and friends all around him. The screen turned into a view at the inside of a small, but grand church. Sunlight was cast through the colorful stained glass windows set inside black iron frames. The church was built of brick and the inside covered with whitewashed wood. It was home. And so church began, with Nox's father standing at the podium in the front of the room, preaching the message of God. But today, it was different. He was playing into his speech so strongly, but the people around Nox felt his strength and brought forth their own, inspired. But this was only the beginning. 

   The next few memories played on, and Nox skipped through them relatively quickly, stopping a few times to get a good look at his family. Specifically, his sister.

   He had stopped at a memory of playing outside with her. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour, Miriam. Be back before then!" her mother said as she prepared something on the kitchen counter. Nox and Miriam rushed out the door into the yard, running to see who could get to the tire swing first. Nox's sister had long flowing brown hair that trailed behind her as she ran. She took pride in its length, and took good care of it. She, of course, ended up jumping on the fire swing first while Nox was left behind, panting.

   She laughed, yelling "I win! I win!"

   Nox continued to catch his breath, before yelling back, "No fair! You're bigger than me!" Miriam laughed back at him again, tauntingly.

   "Too bad! I got born first," she said, swinging back and forth. She was beautiful, with caramel skin and long brown hair. She shared Nox's and their mother's amber eyes. Young Nox had never paid much attention, though. He watched the image of his sister swing, and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

   The screen faded out once more, and Nox continued on, solemnly. 

   The next memory that he stopped on was the beginning of the destruction of his home. Nox was 13, young and very stupid. He liked to get into trouble, typically resulting in a chastising from his mother or sister. But this time, it was from his father. He had sat Nox down, strangely silent. Nox shifted uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding eye contact with his father. His father stared him straight in the face. 

   "We need to have a serious talk, son," his father said. "The Holy Scribe has foreseen a catastrophe, possibly mentioning you in it. He says that the actions of a rogue man will lead to the destruction of the entirety of New Canaan," he continued. 

   "Dad, I'm just foolin' around. You know that better'n anyone else," Young Nox said. "You don't hafta scare sense inta' me."

   His father shook his head, exhaling. "I'm aware, Nox, but this time it's different," he said. "I'm not joking. The Scribe has had a vision of a man that has taken refuge among us. We don't know who, but he concluded that with time, he will reveal himself in the coming destruction." 

   Nox shifted again. "That's ridiculous, I know I can be stupid but I ain't stupid enough to hurt my own family," he said, looking up at his father seated across from him. "There ain't no way that I would hurt y'all, no way on Earth." 

   His father sighed. "I'm going to have to be tougher with you from now on, son. Consider this a warning." The screen faded out once more. 

   Nox skipped through most of the rest of his memories, skimming over them for important things and events. His father began mistreating him, growing colder every day in the name of righteousness. He kept his mother and sister in line, and threats and verbal abuse ensued. It only got worse from there on.

   The true breaking point of Nox's life is when he was 17. His secluded neighborhood had turned into a tiny community, sprung off of New Cannan, had become one of strict Christian folk who had no tolerance for outsiders or foolishness. The tiny settlement called itself Minax Hollow. Nox had done something particularly stupid that day, in retaliation against his father. He had spited the people with the thing they denounced the most, and acted a fool, saying blasphemous things and joking around, calling himself the Antichrist incarnate. The community did not take it well. At all. 

   They lined up a group of "sinners and blasphemes," setting them up to be hanged on a wooden platform. Nox was unlucky enough to have had his outburst on the Hanging Day. His fists were tied together behind his back, and he was ushered through town on a rope tied to the other 'sinners' like livestock. They were all led to the hanging platform, a noose tied for each of them. Nox had not gone quietly, of course. His sister had almost killed a man in her outrage. She had to be held back by her father. 

They each took their place, the rope hanging around their necks. Nox had simmered down, attempting to come to peace with his impending doom. Tears rolled down his cheeks, angered and hurt by his family's betrayal. He took a breath and spoke. 

   "Listen to me, my wayward flock!"

   The people turned to look straight at him. 

   "I spoke to the Lord on the mountaintop, and he told me to rid of your secluded and unfriendly nature, lest disaster befalls this place for your atrocities!"

   They grew angry, and every person that crowded the space below the platform seemed to be filled with bloodlust. 

   "His bidding was all I could do!"

   None but Miriam had stood up for him. It wouldn't be the last time she did, either. She had come racing to the community square with a kitchen knife in her hands. She booked it towards the platform stabbing her way to free Nicodemus. She cut his noose and bindings, shoving him off of the platform yelling at him to run. 

   He screamed at her, "I'm not leaving without you!" To which she yelled, "JUST FUCKING RUN!" And so he did, though a part of him tore at himself for doing so. He wasn't pursued very far and took refuge upon a small, but well-hidden plateau. He was out of view of the people but could see what was going on. Miriam had been bound as well, but she had taken her brother's place on the platform, a noose hanging around her neck.

   Nox's eyes widened, and he began to run back. But he was too late, the man near the contraption had already hit the lever, sending the four poor souls on that platform to their death with the gruesome snap of their necks. 

   Nox covered his mouth and fell to the ground. He scrambled backward, his heart pounding and the urge to vomit was at the back of his throat. What seemed like endless tears ran down his face as he ran away, never to be seen by anyone from that godforsaken place again. Nox bit back a sob, beginning to bite into his fist. The guilt, nausea, and dehydration played at his head and stomach. He felt like his whole world had been snatched from him in what seemed like a few minutes. Sobs began to wrack his body, and he shook as he cried. He kept quiet, the only sound being his labored breathing and the ambiance of his surroundings. 

 


End file.
